Do not stab yourself in the eyes
and bury your bleeding head
into the dark, cold sand,
where it is safe and lonely.
Do not blind yourself to sleep.
Do not wrap a gilded veil
around your sorry heart,
and hide.
Wake up.
The challenge
will rip into you with claws
that sink into the softest touch of your body,
and shred the skin
from your muscle and bone,
to leave you raw.
The world will crawl like fresh water
into your wounds,
and bloom.
Drop the veil and blade,
and emerge from yourself anew,
tender and stumbling,
finally open to reach
beyond.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
Do not stab yourself in the eyes
and bury your bleeding head
into the dark, cold sand,
where it is safe and lonely.
Do not blind yourself to sleep.
Do not wrap a gilded veil
around your sorry heart,
and hide.
Wake up.
The challenge
will rip into you with claws
that sink into the softest touch of your body,
and shred the skin
from your muscle and bone,
to leave you raw.
The world will crawl like fresh water
into your wounds,
and bloom.
Drop the veil and blade,
and emerge from yourself anew,
tender and stumbling,
finally open to reach
beyond.
this is an iteration of an older poem of mine, "Symbiosis".
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